


Letting Her Go

by Aleeab4u



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleeab4u/pseuds/Aleeab4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little voyueristic peek at an intimate moment between Edward and Bella, witnessed through the eyes of Jacob Black. Edward has had enough and thinks Jacob needs to let go. Can he? One-shot. E/B/J</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letting Her Go

A/N 

Just to note, this is slightly AU. Edward and Bella are married, but Renesmee doesn't exist. It's told from Jacob's POV and contains foul language and mild sexual references/content.

Written in 2009. Beta'd by Octoberland.

Letting Her Go

. . . . . .

I have no business being here. I know it, and it doesn't matter. It never has. Not even the fact that he knows I'm here matters, and how fucked up is that?

Shit. Like I need this. The really fucked up part though, is that I do. Need it that is. I keep beating myself over the head with it, hoping it will sink in; hoping it will finally break my heart for the last damn time so that I can move on already. It hasn't worked yet, but here I am again, a sucker for punishment like always. Jake the punching bag, that's me. Just hit me and I'll come right back at you and ask you to do it again.

I'm close enough now I can see the lights glowing in the windows of the little cottage they're shacking up in. Stupid little thing, all stone walls and cutesy quaintness. It isn't the house I would have built for her, but then she doesn't know about that. Thank God for small mercies. The plot of land I own on the Reserve isn't ever going to have a house on it now. It doesn't matter if I do ever get over her. It doesn't matter if by some fantasy magic act I do imprint, and end up mated for life, and having a dozen kids. That place was always going to be hers and hers alone. So yeah, it's going to stay empty.

I tell myself it's because it's just too painful to even think about, and that I'm better off just pretending that little stretch of uncleared land doesn't exist. It's the same thing I told myself when I shoved the sketched out plans for the two bedroom log cabin I was planning on building into the back of my closet. But I know it's just bullshit. If it were true I would have sold the land, or had it declared part of the wildlife conservation act, or hell, even given it to the Tribal Elders to do with whatever the hell they pleased. And I sure as hell would have taken those plans outside to the fire pit and had myself a good old bonfire. Instead I kept them, hoping, even though I know it's stupid, that maybe she'll come back to me.

I thought for sure that seeing them get married would have finished this. I'd wanted it too. Even made a huge show of going there, dancing with her, telling her I wanted her to be happy. Boy did that blow up in my face. All my determination to act like I was accepting all of this shit went right out the window the second she admitted they were going to have a 'real' honeymoon. It had taken me all of three seconds to digest that fact and get the meaning before I'd lost it. If it wasn't for Sam I think I would have killed Edward, and what would that have gotten me? A few minutes of blood thrilling glorious pleasure, and a lifetime of regret. Well maybe not that. I highly doubt I would have lived past the few minutes of pleasure to land in a place of regret. Those brothers of Edward's had been no where in sight at first, but as soon as I'd started to lose it there they were. Damn near on top of me. No, the regret wouldn't have been a problem; never is for a dead person. The real problem would have been knowing what I'd done to Bella. Even if I'd only have to endure the feeling for a few seconds, it would have been unbearable.

I'm closer now. Closer than is smart, but damned if I care. I know the bigger of the brothers has gone hunting. Taking his goddess looking wife with the bitch from hell attitude with him. The other brother is just as dangerous, maybe even more so but he's completely whipped by that little Tinkerbell wife of his. And since she can see the future and no ones come out to kick my ass, I'm assuming this little spy mission is going to end just like all the rest. With me slinking away with my tail between my legs telling myself this is the last damn time.

I snort at my own thoughts, the breath steaming in the cold night air. How many times have I told myself that little lie? Ten, a dozen, a baker's fucking dozen? What's that saying? The third time's the charm? Well I've sure as hell gone past that. So how many multiples of three is it gonna take to get this shit out of my system?

The smell of the forest is strong in my muzzle, and the light mist in the air settles on the overcoat of my fur. I shake it off before it can get underneath and make me cold, inching closer still. The smell of the forest is pleasant, but quickly overridden by the smell of the Cullens. A sickly sweet odour that burns my nose, making me want to sneeze. I bite back the urge with a grimace of teeth that no doubt looks scary as shit reflecting the moonlight seeping through the trees. I don't feel scary. I feel pathetic, like a fucking creepy ass stalker.

Taking a deeper breath I ignore the stench and find what I'm looking for. Bella's scent.

I know her scent was what attracted him to her in the first place, and I hate that he was right. Asshole. I never noticed it before my change. I mean sure she smelled good, most girls do. All soapy and clean and warm and perfumed. The first time I saw her after it had hit me like a brick wall, though I'm pretty sure she didn't notice. She smelled better than good. She smelled fucking incredible. Like fresh flowers and not the overly sweet kind, or like funeral home roses. She smelled like the kind you pass in people's gardens that make you stop and sniff it up like a fag, no matter how macho you are. And rain. She smelled like freaking spring time rain, and fresh sun-warmed grass, and... Christ. Every other stupid poetic pansy ass metaphor you can think of. She'd also smelled like a woman, and boy hadn't that one hit me right in the gut. I loved her, and hell I'm 17, I have sex on the brain twenty four seven so of course I wanted her. Or so I'd thought. Until that moment I hadn't known what real want is like. My cock had gotten so hard in my pants I'd thought I was going to embarrass myself and come right there. Just standing there looking at her, smelling her. The memory is humiliating and arousing all at the same time, and man, I don't need that right now. As if this isn't hard enough.

I focus on her smell, grateful for the wolf blood I've learned to tap into that gives me greater control over my human reactions. Unlike him, her scent doesn't burn me, at least not physically. Frankly though I'm pretty sure I've gotten the worst end of that shit kicking stick. I'd take a sore throat over this any day.

Closer. There. I can see in the window now, and Bella's right there. She's standing in front of a huge bookcase crammed nearly to overflowing. I'd had plans to build her a book case too. Except it would have been built with my own two hands, not ordered out of some overpriced catalogue. That one looks too fancy, all glossy cherry wood finishes and smoothed out edges. I snarl quietly in disgust. I'm pretty damn sure she would have loved my book case better, and he doesn't get any fucking brownie points for having one bought for her.

She tucks the book she's holding back in its place being way more neat than the Bella I know. Her room at Charlie's was never that organized. She put her books all over, in little piles by the bed, strewn over her desk, all dog eared pages and worn covers. I bet the blood sucker is OCD. He seems like the type, overly immaculate, perfect clothes never out of place, car so fucking spotless and shiny it's a wonder the paint isn't peeling off from being washed so much. It gives me a little thrill to see her acting different. How long before she gets sick of having to be all perfect and careful and neat?

My mind begins to spin a little fantasy as Bella selects another book, rifling through the pages like she's looking for something. In my imagination I see her tossing one of them on the floor absentmindedly, like I've seen her do before. It'll land so that one of the pages gets bent, and the smooth spine shows a few cracks. Edward will pick it up, looking peeved, making some off cuff comment about respecting the written word or something just as stuffy sounding. Then maybe Bella would glare at him, start yelling and gesturing around, complaining about his anal issues.

I snort out loud at that thought, the wolf version of a laugh sounding more like a cough. The sound gets repeated when I think about her throwing the book at his head. Just as quickly though my little fantasy vanishes. As much as I hate to admit it I know Edward isn't going to get pissed off at her over something so trivial as a book on the floor. Not to mention Bella throwing a book at him would be about as effective as throwing a feather at a tank. His impervious skin isn't going to feel anything beyond a freaking blow torch, and even that is debatable.

Sighing I let the word 'impervious' roll around in my head. Not a word usually found in the Jacob Black vocabulary, but I kind of like that it's there. I've been reading a lot more lately, and it gives me a little pleasure to know the leech isn't the only one who can use fancy words.

I quickly shelf that thought. It just makes me feel more pathetic. So what? I've started competing with the bloodsucker in the brains department now too? Like it isn't enough I want his wife?

Damn that hurts, thinking of her as his wife. Fucking cuts my heart right out.

I inhale her scent harder, thanking every star in the sky it's still the way I remember it. He hasn't changed her yet. Changed. Fuck! Now I sound like them. Softening it all up, making it sound like it's even remotely close to what we Quileutes go through when we become wolves. It isn't the same, I'm still alive. All of the Pack is still alive. Edward isn't going to 'change' her. He's going to fucking kill her.

But he hasn't done it yet. I breathe slowly, sucking her smell right out of the house, finding my calm. Good thing I'm already in wolf form. No way I would've been able to stop the change from happening with those feelings running around inside of me.

No. He hasn't done it. Yet. He even managed to somehow not kill her during their honeymoon. Though how the hell he did it I still don't know. His kind aren't exactly known for being gentle. Maybe he can pull that shit off in simple things like hugging and kissing, but sex? It just doesn't make sense. I cringe at the thought. Not just at all that could have gone wrong, but also just at the thought of him touching her that way. It makes me sick, and for the life of me I don't know why she'd want him to.

He's so cold. He'd suck the heat right out of her... I stop that train of thought right quick. Thinking of Bella being cold just reminds me of that night in the tent. The night he'd been useless and she'd needed me. Me to hold her, me to warm her up. And that kind of thinking just leads me to remember the following day and the kiss and...Shit!

I need to leave. This is beyond bearing. What kind of a fucking masochist have I turned into? And where the hell is my pride? What the hell has happened to me?

Bella puts her book back and grabs another, turning away from the shelf and moving across the room to settle into a big arm chair. God, she's so pretty. Her hair is pulled back in a loose messy ponytail, a few strands curling around her little ears, and I remember exactly what's happened to me. Her; she's what happened. She has my heart, and I can't get it back. I don't even want it back.

I am so screwed up.

I notice him then. Kneeling on the floor in front of the fireplace, adding logs to an already blazing fire. Pretty fucking ballsy vampire, I think to myself. Considering fire is the one thing that can actually hurt him. I refuse to acknowledge the fact that he's pretty ballsy for her, because he sure as shit doesn't need the heat.

That he's taking care of her burns like acid. It should be me building her a fire, keeping her warm. Hell if it was me, she wouldn't need the fire. I wonder if that sticks in his craw. I hope it does.

Edward gets to his feet in that freaking weird ass eerie way of his, dusting off his hands. He has a slightly annoyed expression on his face and I can't help but grin. He's in my head and I don't need to hope. It does bug him, I can tell.

His shoulders twitch, and my grin gets wider before I shut him out of my mind the best I can. I've learned he can't read what you don't think, and while it isn't perfect I've gotten better at making my mind blank during these little spying missions. I pretty much just pretend I'm a video recorder. Watching, recording, keeping myself as emotionless as possible. At least until later when I can replay it all in my head and pick it apart, looking for signs Bella isn't as happy as she seems. I haven't found too many, but like the pathetic loser I've become, I keep hoping.

"Are you warm enough, love?" Despite the distance and the walls and his soft tone I hear him perfectly. He's obviously going to ignore me, again. He's a hell of a lot more patient than I am. I don't give him credit for that, instead I think it counts against him. If the situation was reversed I'd be all over me. Cause let's face it, what I'm doing here is twisted.

I shove the thought down and hold my ground. I haven't done this for days and I need the fix. The ugly reminder that she isn't mine and that no matter how much it hurts she's made her choice, and she isn't looking back. At least not that I can see.

A quick swivel of my right ear and I catch her response to him just as easily as I caught his question. "Toasty." She gets to her feet and goes straight into his arms. I choke back the growl that wants to tear from my throat. I've seen them touch a hundred times, but it never gets any easier. "Maybe you should cool me down a little actually. I might be too warm."

A sick feeling starts curling up from the pit of my stomach as I see her face in side profile now, smiling up at him with a seductive look. I wait for him to dissuade her like he normally does when I'm around. Ever the fucking gentleman. I don't hide that thought from him and something dark and angry crosses his face, obvious even from here.

Bella jumps a bit, looking alarmed. But as always her reactions are all screwed up. Instead of pulling away from him like she's scared she runs her fingers over his face all worried, like she's trying to soothe him.

"Edward what's wrong?" His mask is back in place before she even finishes asking.

"Nothing, love. Just an unpleasant thought, nothing at all important."

My lip curls in a silent snarl at his jibe.

"Oh." She bites her lip in that incredible little way she does, looking a bit hurt. "I'm sorry," she murmurs unwinding her arms from around his neck. "Are you not... I mean do you not want to...?" She trails off looking insecure, embarrassed. I feel sick. Sick because I sure as hell don't want, or need, to watch him show her different. Yet sick as well that she has that look on her face at all. What the hell does that look say about their sex life? And God damn it all to hell why do I fucking care?

Stupid question and this time I do growl out loud, though I'm smart enough not to let her human ears catch it. I know the answer to that question so I shout it in my head so he can damn well know it too.

If she was mine Leech, she sure as hell wouldn't have that look on her face. Ever! She'd know she was wanted because I'd show her every day. As many times and as often as she wanted me too. There wouldn't be a single doubt in her mind that when she needed me, wanted me, that I was hers. However and whenever. Guess that isn't so easy to do though when you're trying not to kill her, is it? Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself for not being able to let her go? Maybe there's a reason why I can't? You might have put a ring on her finger bloodsucker but she's still human. If you can't give her what she needs, what she deserves, maybe I can.

This time the look of anger lasts a few seconds more. Bella takes a couple of steps back, but again I can tell she isn't scared. Just confused, worried. "You're in a weird mood tonight, Edward." She sighs. "I guess I'll just go have a bath, or maybe I'll just go to bed. I..."

"Bella. Come here please." I don't like his voice. It's weird, compelling. Dark but not menacing. The word velvet comes to mind making me cringe.

Don't, I think. But of course she does, marking me for the fool I always am. I watch his face pretending that I'm making sure he won't hurt her. Playing the unnecessary protector to the bitter fucking end. He looks different. Calm but intent. Like a man who has something to prove.

"Do I not want to what, Bella?"

Shit. I need to leave. Now. But I'm stuck, like somehow I've lost control over the wolf body, and all I can do is watch like a fucking deer in the headlights. Or a human about to get his heart ripped right out of his chest. Again.

Even from here I can see her blush, smell how it enhances her natural already potent smell. It's like a fist to the gut. Tucking her lip beneath her perfect little teeth again, she looks at him warily. Not just warily. There is something else as well.

"Tell me, love. What do you think I don't want to do?" Again with the velvet shit. I catch the soft thrum of her heart picking up speed and realize what the other emotion is. She likes it. What he's doing. How he's acting. Like he's all dominant. It's turning her on.

Yes, it is, dog. Care to stick around and find out how much?

His lips don't fucking move but I hear him clearly, the words a hissing sneer. I'd think he was talking right into my head if it wasn't for the fact that it's more like a whisper that got carried over by the wind. That and the other fact being that I know vampires have some weird ass thing they can do with their voices. When Bella doesn't react at all it confirms that one for me.

There is no trace of the sneer when he speaks to her. Her cheeks are still pink, but this time it isn't a blush. At least not one I've ever gotten to see. "Do you think I don't want to make love to you, Bella?"

This has gone beyond masochistic and still I don't move. He bends her backwards just the tiniest amount, arching her so that he can dip his head down to kiss her neck. It isn't lost on me that he's doing that very precise thing to torture me. To mock me. It occurs to me that it's finally happened. I've pushed him too far, and that carefully constructed wall of decency and normalcy is crumbling. He's finally doing what he said he would.

He's not playing fair. He's not fucking playing at all.

Bella makes a soft little sound that kicks me straight in the chest, knocking out all my air while he keeps kissing her neck. All the hair on my back bristles and stands on end at the sight, triggering every instinct I have to protect her, even though I know he's not biting her. That he has no intention of biting her.

"When do I ever not want you, Bella?" He's kissing her lower now along her collarbones, as though he's satisfied that I'd gotten the point of his other kiss. "The answer is never, love. I always want you. I'm yours, my sweet girl. Completely yours. Whenever you want. However you want."

The bastard is throwing my words right back in my face. Taunting me with them. The growl that tears through my teeth now is anything but quiet. I swear I see the flash of a grin cross his face when he lifts it from her soft skin.

Still here, pup?

He lifts her into his arms without effort, laying her on a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace. His body moves to cover hers, blocking her entirely from my view. Something he's done on purpose. I still catch her movement as she arches against him, her hands tangling in his hair.

"Shall I show you, love? How much I want you, need you, love you?"

"Yes," and her voice is soft and husky with the arousal I can fucking smell coming off her in waves. So perfect, so incredibly sweet and hot. I bury my nose into the damp leaves at my paws, dragging in the smell of wet dirt, insects, decay and rotting plant matter, and still it doesn't completely mask that impossibly honeyed nectar. Her gift to him when it should have been mine.

By all means stay, Jacob.

He's stopped sneering and now he sounds almost coaxing.

Watch if you want. I'll let you, just this one time.

I finally find the ability to move. Not that it matters now. I'm so torn between wanting to go and the sick voyeuristic desire to stay, I can't quite work up the will. I'm no longer looking in the window but Bella makes another sound, this one a throaty little purr that calls to life every fantasy I've ever had. Only this isn't a fantasy. This is hell. I sure as shit don't need the visual to prove it.

Maybe this is what you need. Too see that she's happy. To see that she has everything she needs.

I hear the distinct sounds of fabric rustling. Buttons being undone. A zipper gliding down its ladder of metal teeth. Edward's low growl of pleasure.

"So beautiful, my Bella. You are so beautiful." It doesn't show in his tone, but I know the bastard is emphasizing 'my'. As though he fucking needs to.

"Edward." It's only the softest of sighs, but her saying his name like that is the final straw that cracks my chest wide. I swear to God I feel my fucking heart land with a sick wet splat at my feet. The illusion is so powerful that I have to resist the urge to look at my chest and see if I'm bleeding. If I wasn't in my wolf form and incapable of the act, I don't think I could have resisted.

Enough. It's a sharp bitter howl that tears through my throat. Slowly, without the wolf grace and agility that should be obvious I back into the forest, my head low.

Enough.

Is it? Is it enough, mutt?

His whisper is a sneer again.

Maybe it isn't. Stay. Wait another minute. It's all I need to make her scream my name. If you thought hearing her whisper it was painful, just wait...

Enough, leech! You win. I'm leaving.

I find my feet and my coordination and spin away, running now. Fast and hard and as far away from Forks as I can get. I just pray there really is a fucking place on this planet that is far enough away. The voices of the Pack fade in and out. An outpouring of pleas and apologies. A real pity party for poor pathetic, can't let go, Jacob. I shove them away turning to my instincts.

The last voice I hear is Edward's. The sneer is gone and now his tone is almost respectful, repentant.

Almost.

This is over now, Jacob. Bella has made her choice. I love her. I will love and protect her for all eternity. You would have done the same I know, but she chose different. I've tried to respect how you feel, but no more. My patience with you is at an end. Stay away.

It's time to let her go...

As the forest around me grows thicker, wilder, those last three words echo in my head, everything I want, need, but don't know if I'll ever be able to do.

Three simple impossible fucking words.

Let her go....


End file.
